


Great Love (Pt. 3/?) - Big Hearts

by ohdaito



Series: Great Love [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Not Blaine Friendly, Not Klaine Friendly, kadam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-08
Updated: 2013-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 23:43:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1074445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohdaito/pseuds/ohdaito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You could date two people or two million people, but that one great love is unforgettable. True love stories never have endings.” A Kadam-centric Epic about Kurt’s life after the Klaine proposal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Great Love (Pt. 3/?) - Big Hearts

NYADA had once been Kurt’s dream school; he would, in his younger days, print out pictures of the campus and pin them to his bulletin board to admire whenever he pleased - and that was often. But now, Kurt’s once proud footsteps had been reduced to a consciously quiet pace. He was afraid to walk the halls.

The two o’clock classes had started ten minutes ago. Kurt had been unable to even think about attending his comedy class when the only satire in his life was at his own expense. Instead, he ghosted through the halls of the school, nearly empty, fear wracking his body.

He couldn’t return home to Rachel, Rachel and her blatant wedding plans in his honor – papers spread across the table, bridal magazines, the phone numbers of pastors, eHow articles on garland wedding decorations…

Kurt escaped the academic wing and ducked inside NYADA’s Large Theatre, the theatre where only the truly prestigious performances were showcased. He slowly climbed the stairs to the middle balcony.

Kurt sat down in the front row of the balcony, arms crossed and chin resting upon them. His clear, dull eyes looked out across the beautiful, spotlit stage, and he distantly wondered when his life became less about performing and more about acting.

He didn’t know where to go from here. He felt an obligation to Blaine, an obligation to his family and his friends back in Lima to marry young, to marry like he was in love, but he wasn’t. It used to break his heart. But his father adored Blaine and the Glee club cuddled Blaine like a child star. There was an unspeakable force behind Kurt, pushing him to meet Blaine at the altar.

He couldn’t back out. Blaine and Rachel had previously sent out the engagement announcements to every distant relative they could think of. He was trapped.

His eyes welled up with tears but he refused to let himself cry. Every emotion that had risen to the surface in the past week – the week after Blaine admitted to cheating on him again – had been dutifully suppressed and Kurt couldn’t find it in himself to care. He doesn’t let himself feel anything but lost.

The dark theatre was suddenly engulfed in a sparkling light. Kurt jumped in his seat and looked away from the stage to the doors.

“Our dear, beloved stage – nay, our home – is under construction, for those of you who don’t know, so I’ve booked us the Large Theatre for the hour. It took quite a bit of convincing, so let’s not waste any time! Hear, hear?”

Ren – the manager of the Adam’s Apples. Her loud voice reverberated from wall to wall of the theatre. Kurt startled and slowly sat up straight in his seat.

It was the Apples, all mismatched, happy dozen of them, and they were walking onto the Large Theatre stage with a bounce in their step and awe in their eyes. Kurt’s own eyes stung as he saw Adam taking up the rear of the group, holding a stack of sheet music with a pencil behind his ear.

“Now, everybody get up on the stage, and let’s just start. Adam?” Ren shouted.

Adam smiled and handed everyone a piece of sheet music. “I’ve been arranging this for the past week or so. Shall we try it?”

Kurt, mind frozen by an unknown emotion – fear, hope, excitement, sadness – moved so he wouldn’t be able to be seen. The Apples arranged themselves.

“And one, two…”

Kurt closed his eyes and let himself listen to the Apples sing. He imagined what it would be like if he was still down there with them, with Ren, with Adam.

“But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all?”

Kurt ran a hand over his sad, flushed face. It took everything he had to not cry out.

He stood up quickly, suddenly unable to listen to the music. His stomach twisted as he leant down to grab his bag, catching an accidental glance of the people and the place that had once been his happiness.

Sensing movement from the balcony, Ren looked up from her spot on the stage and saw Kurt, eyes bright and scared as he was turning to leave. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She called out, interrupting the music, “Kurt? What are you doing up there, silly?”

Kurt’s skin jumped once more; he ran out the door and down the stairs, heart racing. He had to get out before Ren – or someone else – came looking for him. On the very last step, he tripped and fell, landing on his knees. His skin stung and his breath was shallow.

He buried his head in his hands.

Every emotion, every thought, every wish he had forced down as unimportant came rushing in like waves. He was scared. He was scared of Blaine, of their impending wedding, of his voice that had first stolen his heart, of the same voice that broke it, of the consequences, of his father dying, of Rachel’s fantasies, of what his life would become, but mostly of himself – and that was the worst part. He had done this to himself.

He felt dizzy, like his entire world was shaking, but – Kurt cried – he knew it had been for a long time. He pulled himself up again, and leaned against the wall, arms curling protectively around his chest.

“Kurt?” a soft, tentative voice asked. Kurt looked up and his heart leapt painfully.

Adam stood in the middle of the doorway opposite Kurt; he looked anxious, afraid, troubled – and of course beautiful – and Kurt couldn’t take it.

He quickly picked up his bag and avoided Adam’s worried, wide eyes when he stuttered softly, “I’m so sorry for interrupting your rehearsal,” and ran off. Adam remained in the doorway, frozen, scarf blowing slightly. He brought a hand up to his eyes and quickly rubbed them.

Ren, from behind him, hugged her chest and looked away.

* * *

Kurt was out on the fire escape, the cold night air whipping through his body, when Santana found him. She didn’t say a word as she draped an old quilt around his still shoulders and sat down slowly next to him. She clutched her own sweater closer to her body and she sighed. “Listen, princess, I think it’s time we talk.”

Kurt didn’t look up. “About what?”

A couple in the building adjacent was fighting. Only their silhouettes were seen as they threw their hands in the air, angry, and paced around their apartment like ghosts. Kurt watched them sadly.

“I found this in your room a couple weeks ago,” Santana said, drawing the photograph of Adam from her pocket. “This isn’t an… intervention, or whatever, but I just think we need to talk about this.”

Kurt numbly took the Polaroid from her outstretched hand, before slowly glancing up at her face. “Santana, I had thought I lost it.”

“I know, Lady. But you have it back now. I just had to do some contemplating of my own before I asked you about it. So here I am. So, why?”

Kurt looked away, back toward the adjacent building and the angry couple. “What do you want me to say, Santana?”

Santana, in an uncharacteristically warm fashion, grasped Kurt’s hand in her own. “I know you miss Adam. Don’t even try to deny it, pretty boy. There ain’t _nothing_ that can pass under the radar of these falcon eyes.”

Kurt stole a glance down to his photograph. It was frayed at the edges, torn, but yet Adam’s sweet smile was clear. Santana tightened her hold on Kurt’s hand. “And I can tell that you do miss him.”

“I know,” was the whispered reply.

* * *

“You know,” Kurt said with a smile, “I think we’ve been gone from the real world for too long.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Adam called from the kitchen – a good ten feet away from where Kurt lay curled up under a blanket on the couch. “We’ve got another day or two before reality _really_ slaps us in the face.”

Kurt paused the movie. “I look forward to it.”

Adam carefully carried two full, white mugs to the coffee table in front of the couch. “Hey, hey, now! This long weekend is all about us, yeah? So neither of us is allowed to think about work, or school, or even the subway ride back to your flat. This is us!” Kurt smiled. “So let’s drink our hot cocoa and finish this trainwreck of a movie.”

“Hmm, now _that_ I actually look forward to.”

Adam chuckled and hopped under the blanket with Kurt, pulling him to his side to the sound of their laughter.

* * *

Adam, head in his hands, sat hunched forward, alone, in the empty theatre, with his phone tossed carelessly on the seat next to him. Kurt strode down the aisle, early for Apples practice, and smiled when he saw the familiar red beanie in front of him.

“I hope I’m not too early, hmm, Adam?” Kurt teased lightly as he came forward to sit next to his boyfriend. It took him a moment to notice the tense, hidden posture. “Hey, are you alright?”

Adam rubbed his eyes roughly and looked up, a fake smile on his pink lips. “Of course. Don’t you worry about me, prince.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes and grabbed Adam’s arm when he attempted to stand up. “Adam, please. I can tell when you’re upset.”

Adam turned around, eyes down and sad, as he said, “I don’t want you to think of me any different.”

Kurt rushed to his feet, leaving his bag forgotten on his chair; he smiled that reassuring smile Adam loved and gently took hold of Adam’s hands. “I know who you are, Adam. You are the sweetest, smartest, _handsomest,_ most charming man I know. There is nothing that’ll change that,” Kurt said. “Except if you’re about to tell me you’ve killed someone. That might change my perspective a _little_ bit,” he teased. “But we can always do the Bonnie and Clyde thing.”

Adam let himself smile. His shoulders slumped as he pointed to his forgotten phone. “I made the unfortunate mistake to go to the NYADA forums.”

Kurt, confused, retrieved the phone. Adam punched in the combination and the screen lit up on a webpage: the NYADA forums, as he said. Kurt looked up, and before reading the page, led himself and Adam to the stage where they sat in the middle, knee to knee.

“I know the Apples aren’t exactly the most popular of clubs,” Adam began uncertainly, and then Kurt knew. He sighed, to which Adam nodded.

An anonymously created thread had caught Adam’s attention. And it was brutal.

 _“_ _Adam is unappealing, uninteresting, he has no depth, no personality. An old shoe box is more interesting than Adam,”_ Kurt read aloud slowly. Adam frowned.

Kurt read another.“ _I don’t get why anyone cares about Adam, I honestly forget about him until I see one of those stupid Apples posters.”_

_“Adam’s Apples? So conceited!”_

_“_ _You are truly deluded if you actually believe that “Baby Got Back” was the best performance the stupid Adam’s Apples ever did, because it was horrible, one of the worst songs ever!”_

And one suspicious anonymous comment: “ _I can’t wait for Adam to be gone and for Blaine to take over the Apples and make the Banana Blaines out of them!”_

Kurt closed the browser screen and gently gave Adam back his phone.

“This means nothing, Adam –“

“Kurt, it _does_ mean something! Reputation is everything at the school – and I am at the absolute bottom, and I’ve dragged you and our friends down with me.” Adam rubbed his temples and wouldn’t meet Kurt eyes.

Kurt gently placed Adam’s phone on the floor and took Adam’s hands in his own, smiling encouragingly. Adam couldn’t help but share a watery smile back.

“Adam, when I came to this school, I had a terrible view of myself. I couldn’t go through a single class without thinking that I wasn’t good enough. But you changed that! You complimented me, you asked for my opinions, you made me laugh – you’re wonderful, Adam. Without you, I don’t know where I would be. Hell, where would any of us be without you? We may be at the bottom, but we’re happy to be there! Because we’re all together, and no stupid comments by some generic wannabe Andrew Rannells is going to change how we all feel about you, how _I_ feel about you, which is nothing but love.”

“Kurt…”

“And, sir, you are _more_ than interesting! I love your happiness, I love your love of writing music, I love that you don’t like children, I love that you’re scared of eating from food vendors, I love your eyes, your nose, your mouth – Adam, you’re perfect. And whoever says otherwise is a complete wanker.”

Adam laughed, and gripped Kurt’s hands tightly before leaning into Kurt’s chest. He choked on his own breath. Kurt wrapped his arms around Adam’s hunched shoulders and whispered softly in his ear, “You’re perfect.”

* * *

“Kurt, watch out!” Adam exclaimed, throwing an arm out to block Kurt’s path. He looked over with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Adam?”

Adam grinned and knelt down in the middle of the sidewalk, setting his travel mug down beside him. People walked past the two of them impatiently, throwing them disdainful looks. Kurt paid them no mind, and instead bent down next to Adam.

Adam shot him a twinkly smile. “Heads-up penny. Pick it up and make a wish, Kurt!”

Kurt smiled in spite of himself. “Oh, you honestly _can’t_ believe in that superstition. And I’m pretty sure it’s for good luck, not a wish.”

Adam rolled his eyes, and Kurt smirked. “One, of course I do. And second, who needs good luck? A wish is far more valuable. What’s a life without wishing?”

 “Touché,” Kurt said, laughing softly. “But you found it. It’s your wish.”

Adam grabbed Kurt’s hand in his and kissed Kurt’s palm quickly. “We’ll pick it up together.”

“Isn’t there some kind of rule against that?”

“Oh, no, not that I can think of… c’mon, prince, make a wish!”

The two of them picked up the small penny at the same time and stood up. “What did you wish for?” Adam asked giddily.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true!” Kurt protested. “But I’ll give you a hint. It has to do with finding more pennies with you.”

Adam’s eyes were bright as the sun above them, and Kurt was sure his were, too – it was an old, rusty penny but somehow he felt it meant more. And the glowing grin Adam shot Kurt was the reason why.

* * *

It was a nightmare of long, red hallways and winding staircases that woke Kurt in a drenched sweat. He lay still under his covers, too shocked, too afraid, to move a single muscle or blink. The arm that was draped across Kurt’s chest tightened protectively – Adam. In Kurt’s anxiety, he had forgotten that he wasn’t alone. But now he was relieved – _he wasn’t alone._ He let himself move around and breathe and blink.

He turned to face Adam.

“You alright there, prince?” Adam asked sleepily, rubbing at his eyes. Kurt smiled softly and shrugged.

“It was a bad dream. I’m fine,” Kurt murmured. He pulled the comforter up to his chin. “I can’t even remember it.”

Adam nodded and grumbled a low gruff noise in the back of his throat, exhaustion slowly taking over once more. Kurt looked down. “But you were scared.”

“Yeah, I mean, a little –“  

Adam, with eyes slipping closed, gently pulled Kurt closer to his bare chest. Kurt sighed softly and tucked his head into the crook of Adam’s neck. He smelled like Kurt’s bodywash and of his own laundry detergent.

Adam began to sing. His voice was slightly slurred and hazy from sleep but it only calmed Kurt further. He smiled.

 _“Come to me, my sweetest friend,”_ Adam sang softly. “ _Can you feel my heart again? I’ll take you back where you belong, and this will be your favorite song.”_

And the moment before Kurt fell asleep once more, he whispered, “I love you.”

 _“Come to me, with secrets bare, I love you more so don’t be scared,”_ Adam continued sleepily. “ _And when we’re old and near the end, we’ll go home and start again.”_

* * *

The cold wind beat through Kurt’s body, and Santana let go of his hands. “What are you going to do?”

“What do you mean?” was all Kurt could manage out.

“Kurt, you are so unhappy. And not even your usual, pout-until-I-get-what-I-want unhappy,” Santana murmured. “It’s bumming me out. Just ditch the bow-tie and find Adam.”

“It’s not that easy, Santana! I love Blaine.”

Santana hit his leg. “Look me in the _eyes_ when you say that, lady. I don’t believe you.”

Kurt’s fingers played with the tassels of the blanket around his shaking shoulders and he didn’t say a word. Santana sighed. “I knew it.”

“What are you going to do?” she repeated.


End file.
